


And Me

by colieb2183



Series: Us [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Blood and Gore, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Choking, Dirty Talk, Facials, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, M/M, OT3, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Praise Kink, Restraints, Rimming, Rowdy AU, Spanking, Threesome - M/M/M, Uh oh fasten your seatbelts, Verse Keith, Verse Kinkade, War, Yeehaw AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 06:30:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16089995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colieb2183/pseuds/colieb2183
Summary: The anniversary of Kerberos approaches. Shiro can feel the anxiety curling within him until it boils over.





	And Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [buffshiro](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buffshiro/gifts).



> This is written for the amazing buffshiro. I'm so sorry, I'm breaking Yeehaw code. I love you! <3
> 
> Please please PLEASE pay attention to the tags. There is a VERY explicit scene with a PTSD flashback and a panic attack.  
> If reading a story with those will be triggering for you, please skip ahead once you reach this line  
> "The piercing sounds of bullets rip through the air." 
> 
> The panic attack ends at this line.  
> "Shiro slumps forward, exhausted."
> 
> I love you all. Thank you for going on this wild ride with me.

Shiro awakens with a jolt, breathing in sharply through his nose; a heavy arm weighs on his ribs as his chest heaves with aborted sobs. He struggles to catch his breath, disoriented, sweat beading across his forehead. It’s so hot. He needs to get out.

Drawing in a shaking breath, he traces the arm back to Keith’s lightly snoring frame. His nightmares didn’t cost his fiancé any sleep. This time at least. He carefully moves Keith’s arm off his sweat-slick chest and slides gingerly to the edge of the bed. Keith's brow wrinkles in his sleep, as if aware that something is wrong, but he slumbers on.

Shiro sighs gratefully and glances at the clock on Keith’s nightstand. Fantastic. 3:30 AM. Only two hours of sleep. He snags a pair of boxers off the floor, creeps out of the bedroom, and makes his way down the staircase as quietly as possible.

It’s October 16th. Five more days until anniversary of the ill-fated Kerberos mission. Eight years have passed, but it’s never easy and there are many signs that he’s not coping well. He mentally checks off the boxes. Anxious. Clingy. Easily irritated. Two days ago Keith startled him out of his skin when he came into the kitchen for a glass of lemonade and Shiro nearly took him out with an arm to the throat before catching himself. He’s also sleeping with his prosthetic on again. Sweat drips down his jaw and he sighs, wiping it away with the back of his hand. He should call the VA and make an appointment to see Moira.

He opens the front door. Fireflies flit across the length of their lawn, peeking in and out in mimicry of the stars above. A cacophony of bullfrogs breaks through the gentle symphony of owls and crickets. He takes it all in, trying to drown out the echoing screams of his dying men. The heady scent of jasmine wafts by on the night breeze and pushes back the memories of smoke and burning fuel as it caresses his overheated skin.

Sitting on the edge of the porch, he props his head in his hands and breathes deep. Fills his lungs with the night-blooming flowers he planted, the musty smell of animals drifting from the barn. They help to clear the stench of gunpowder from his nose. One more deep breath and he turns his eyes heavenward.

The sky is luminous with starlight; the vast stretch of the Milky Way arching across the wide expanse of darkness afforded by the new moon. Shiro loses himself in watching the clouded band drift, awash in blues, purples, and gold, streaked by shooting stars.

Wood creaks behind him and Shiro flies off the steps into a defensive position. His heart pounds as he raises his eyes to take in a boxer-clad Keith standing palms raised. He swallows hard, frustrated, and drops both arms back by his sides.

“Baby, it’s ok,” Keith murmurs, “Do you want me to sit with ya?” Concern is written all over Keith’s face. He knows. Of course he knows.

Shiro nods and Keith moves closer, pulling Shiro back to sit next to him on the steps of the porch. He wraps a corded arm around Shiro’s waist and gently asks, “What can I do?”

Winding his arm around Keith’s shoulders, Shiro sighs, “… I don’t know.”

Silence stretches between them until Keith reaches to angle Shiro’s jaw towards his own and places a gentle kiss on his lips. “I love you,” he whispers.

Shiro leans forward to press their foreheads together. He breathes in Keith’s scent, sweat and sex undercut by something that’s uniquely _Keith._ “I love you too,” he whispers back. “I’m sorry I woke you up. I just needed to… I needed a distraction.”

“Ain’t nothin’ you need to apologize for. You didn’t wake me up, I promise.”

Shiro smiles ruefully. “I don’t believe you. It’s like you have Shiro radar installed.”

Keith chuckles warmly and turns his head to take in the slowly moving cosmos above. “Best decision I ever made.” Silence falls over them once more.

“I used to be obsessed with space when I was a little kid,” Keith offers. Shiro smiles at the thought of a tiny Keith running around in moon boots. “Want me to show ya all the constellations my ma taught me? I know all the Galran names.”

“I would absolutely love that.” He leans into Keith’s shoulder as Keith points up at the sky naming off utterly unpronounceable things. Warmth floods through Shiro’s body. God, he loves this man. They stay up until the stars blink out in the rising sun, keeping Shiro’s nightmares at bay for at least one more night.

***

Later that day, Shiro is groggily trimming the hedge around Hunk’s family diner when his phone trills a text notification. He yawns, sets down the clippers, strips off his gloves, and pulls it out of the back pocket of his shorts.

 **Fly-Ry:** You and the cowboy still up for a weekend of debauchery?

Arousal coils through him.

 **Shiro** : If you think we would pass on the chance to have you naked in our bed, you’ve studied yourself stupid.

The suggestion to include Ryan in on their sex life had taken on a life of its own, to the point where Ryan and increasingly acrobatic acts of fuckery were now a weekend staple. Shiro is still not able to process just how gorgeously Keith submits to Ryan, how Shiro burns to be held up betwe – Nope. Shiro deliberately places his phone back in his pocket. That train of thought careens directly toward an inevitable awkward boner. His phone goes off once more, but he pulls his gloves on with a shake of his head and continues edging the shrubs.

Sweat is pouring from under his hair when he finally finishes. He grabs his towel on his way to the front door of the diner and brusquely wipes his face. Blessedly the diner has central air, and he relishes the blast of cold across his skin when the door opens with a chime. Hunk sees him coming in and flags him over.

“Hey! Gimme a minute and I’ll go grab this month’s payment. And I owe you a slice of pie.”

Shiro shakes his head – Hunk is always trying to stuff him full of pie as if he doesn’t have a diet to follow –  and grabs his phone out of his pocket before slipping into the nearest booth. He settles into the plush seat, skin sticking unpleasantly to the blue vinyl, and swipes his screen to see the text he missed. And immediately hunches over his phone to hide it.

Rather than responding to Shiro’s text individually, Ryan had responded to the ongoing group text between the three of them. With a picture text.

 **Fly-Ry** : Good

He’s sprawled on his couch, shirt pulled up. The camera angle catches the defined ridges of his abdomen leading all the way to the hand pulling down the waistband of his sweats. Hard thick cock jutting proudly out.

A message pops up.

 **Fly-Ry** : You both better be ready for me. I have plans for you

Well… the train has now careened directly into boner town, population Shiro. He discretely shifts his hips. Stares at the image of Ryan’s cock. Imagines scenarios filled with tangled limbs covered in sweat and come. Sees Hunk approaching… a flush spreads from his cheekbones to his chest as he quickly locks his phone screen.

Hunk slides the envelope across the table with payment for Shiro’s gardening services. He drops his chin and raises an eyebrow knowingly. Dimples carve into his cheeks as he fails to suppress a grin. “And ah…. What kind of pie would you like? Is Keith hungry too?” He winks saucily.

Shiro groans and buries his head in his hands. “I hate you. One apple pie and one pecan pie to go.”

“You got it, hot stuff.”

Shiro waits for Hunk to return with said pie, valiantly fighting the urge to unlock his phone screen. Ryan is going to be the death of him.

Keith is still at Lotor’s farm when Shiro returns home from Hunk’s diner. After popping the slice of pecan pie in the fridge, he makes his way up to their bedroom. Shiro had intended to clear out a drawer for Ryan to use for his things so he didn’t need bring a bag on the weekends. He stands at their dresser, staring. It would make sense; it’s the only drawer that’s mostly empty already. He would only need to move the one thing. He hesitates.

With lips, tongues, fingers, Ryan and Keith had imprinted it on his skin – you are beautiful, you are loved, you are worthy – until it sank deep to the very marrow of his bones. His reflection was no longer a collection of obituaries written in indelible scar tissue. He no longer hates the mirror. Or himself. But this…this he had not been able to conquer.

He slides open the drawer. He doesn’t open the box. Can’t. It haunts him.

Tags stamped with his name. Emblems proudly decorated with the Marine Corps Eagle, Globe, and Anchor. Ribbons promising a bright military career that burned out as violently as a supernova. The heart.

Fingers glide over the polished mahogany cover. “Ooh Rah,” he whispers. The drawer closes. He’ll ask Keith to move it when he gets home.

***

The next few days leading up to the weekend are a mixture of excitement and dread for Shiro. Excitement for Ryan to come over. Dread for the anniversary. He tries to lose himself in his gardening and in Keith. Keith, being the wonderful, understanding man that he is, obliges Shiro as much as he can.

Saturday rolls around and Shiro is pacing their living room. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked off from work. Maybe the distraction of dancing would have helped. He second-guesses everything as he paces, vigorously shaking his hands in an attempt to rid himself of the anxiety. He’d rather not have to resort to using his medication, but with Keith at work and nothing but his thoughts to occupy him, he may not have any other choice. Giada peeps at him from her heating lamp in the corner.

He stops, takes in a slow breath, blowing it out even more slowly when he hears it. Gravel crunching on their driveway. Confused, he moves to their front door. A beat-up silver Camry is making its way to their house. Ryan. Shiro’s heart swells. He must have asked off of work tonight as well.

The car pulls up in front of their house, and Ryan opens the door. “What up ho?”

Shiro cracks up. He couldn’t ask for better men in his life.

Not only did Ryan bring himself, he also brought over his N64. They quickly get caught up in playing Mario Kart until Keith’s truck pulls in the driveway. After he showers, it doesn’t take much coaxing for him to join them, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Ryan chucks a controller at his head with a “You’re playing too, cowboy.”

Video games, food, and laughter distract Shiro from the date, from his memories. As the sun starts setting, he tugs both of his lovers towards the stairs with a wicked grin. They both follow without a fight.

He tugs Keith’s shirt over his head, backing him towards their bed. Ryan follows, pulling off his own clothes and then reaching for Shiro’s shirt. Shiro pauses to allow Ryan to pull his top off and to shuck his basketball shorts. Naked, he reaches for Keith’s belt buckle, unclasping and pulling the leather out with a sharp snap.

He pulls the boxer briefs and worn Levi’s down Keith’s muscular thighs and sends him tumbling onto their mattress with a slight push. Keith looks like a full course meal lounging naked in front of them. The lean lines of his body stand out in stark relief as he props himself up on his elbows.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Shiro breathes before crawling on top of him, straddling his hips. He leans down to lick against the seam of Keith’s mouth, pinching his nipples. Keith moans and arches into Shiro’s hands, beautifully responsive.

Ryan climbs onto the mattress. “Mmm, I can never get this fucking ass of yours out of my head.” He sinks his teeth into the meat of Shiro’s ass cheek.

Shiro yelps and grinds down into Keith. White hot stars burst behind his eyelids. He grinds again, chasing the blinding friction, until Ryan yanks him to his knees. Shiro sobs in protest. A huff of breath across his exposed hole is the only warning he gets before Ryan licks a broad stripe along the puckered opening.

“Holy shit,” Shiro moans brokenly. Keith winds his fingers through Shiro’s hair, desperately sealing their mouths together, swallowing Shiro’s moans.

Ryan presses open wet kisses along the edge of Shiro’s rim. He throws his head back with a ragged gasp and Keith mouths along the long line of his throat, nipping lightly. Shivers wrack through Shiro’s entire body.

Torturously, Ryan never progresses past the feather light kisses setting Shiro’s skin on fire. He squirms, breathless, his cock brushing against Keith’s. “Ryan, please, PLEASE.”

Another huff of breath against his skin and Shiro feels thumbs pulling him apart wider. “You’re always so damn eager.” Shiro doesn’t even attempt to hold back his strangled sound of ecstasy as Ryan’s tongue swirls and then prods at his tightly furled opening, wriggling inside the twitching muscle. Keith chuckles darkly and sucks a mark onto Shiro’s shoulder.

“Can you hold yourself up, sweet tea?”

The words barely make sense but Keith is already pushing him up so Shiro is supporting himself on his hands. He grunts out a delirious affirmation. His arms shake, but they hold.

Keith hums in satisfaction, licks his palm, and snakes his hand down to wrap it tightly around both of their cocks. It’s hot, wet, and sliding. Calluses gently scraping. The friction and pressure pairs with the wet wriggle of Ryan’s tongue working him open, driving him near the edge of oblivion. Shiro can hear himself screaming louder and higher with each pump of Keith’s wrist.

Ryan is moaning hot damp puffs of air as he fucks his tongue inside Shiro, slurping obscenely at his rim. His fingers press bruising indents into the dense muscle of Shiro’s ass as Keith decorates Shiro’s chest with bites and hickeys, sucking on his skin until it blooms red and purple.

Shiro’s body shakes with desperation. He’s so close, so fucking close. Just a little more.

“Please don’t stop. Please...” His voice is thin. Wrecked. His mind narrows into two points of blinding pleasure until it shatters with a twist of Keith’s wrist. Come splatters onto Keith’s stomach and Keith whispers beautiful praise as he works Shiro through his orgasm.

With a final swirl, Ryan’s tongue leaves Shiro’s oversensitive skin. Keith hooks a leg around Shiro and rolls them, settling himself between Shiro’s spread thighs. He grinds his still hard cock through the mixture of come and sweat on their skin. Shiro sobs as he struggles to control the sparks shooting up his spine.

Ryan strokes his hand along Keith’s jaw. “Switch places with me.” Keith groans, but does as he’s asked.

Shiro doesn’t trust Ryan’s wicked smirk as he slips between Shiro’s thighs. He slides his fingers through the mess coating Shiro’s stomach, raising his hand to lick the come off his thumb. It’s so unbearably hot that Shiro’s head drops against the pillow with a groan. He doesn’t notice the small vibrator until it’s already nestled against his prostate. With a grin, Ryan hands the remote to Keith before leaning to whisper in Shiro’s ear, “We’re not done with you yet.” Keith turns the vibrator on to the first setting.

“Aaaah, holy _shit_.”

Ryan shifts, pressing Shiro’s legs together and trapping them between his thighs. He slides his hands over Shiro’s arms, anchoring each wrist to the mattress next to Shiro’s head. His lips teasingly caress Shiro’s ear. Shiro shivers.

“I want you to watch as your cowboy makes a mess of me.”

Shiro’s mouth drops open with a gasp, and Ryan takes advantage, tongue plundering. His cock gives a feeble twitch.

The mattress dips under Keith’s weight as he positions himself behind Ryan. Shiro watches Ryan’s eyelids flutter shut with the first finger stretching him. Moans at the look of utter ecstasy that paints Ryan’s face as Keith finds and strokes his prostate. Drools precome to his stomach when Keith splits Ryan open with his cock.

Keith sets a blistering pace. Slapping skin, moans, and swears echo off the walls of their bedroom. Shiro drinks in the sounds pouring from Ryan’s mouth. Sounds he’s never heard before. Sounds Ryan only makes when he’s getting fucked.

“How bad do you think he wants to be you right now?” Keith purrs as he sinks in deep, slowly grinding his hips.

Ryans mouth drops open. “Uuhh.” His spine flexes beautifully as he pushes back into Keith.

“Do you think he ever wondered how gorgeous you would look like this? Taking my dick?”

“ _Please_!” Shiro wails. An overwhelming rush of heat floods through his chest down to his cock and his biceps bulge as he strains against Ryan’s hold. He rolls his hips, desperately seeking friction against his neglected cock. The vibrator grinds against his prostate. Frustrated tears leak from the corners of his eyes.

Keith smirks. “Isn’t he so pretty – when he – begs?” The headboard bangs into the wall with each thrust.

“Uhhh – Yesss.” Ryan moans. “Oh my god, you feel so _fucking good_. Don’t stop.”

Keith grunts and resumes his punishing pace. Shiro is captivated with Ryan’s face. The way he pants and moans. The way his eyebrows scrunch when he gasps. The way his eyes roll into the back of his skull whenever Keith strikes a glancing blow against his sweet spot.

The entire bed is shaking, the frame beating a steady metronome against their wall. Shiro’s body is buzzing with sensation, but the vibrations do not push him closer to the edge, just keep it tantalizingly out of reach. He’s held witness to Ryan and Keith’s pleasure, and he _burns_ with it.

“Ngh – I’m – I’m gonna come,” Keith grinds out between clenched teeth.

“Touch me,” Ryan orders breathlessly. He utters a long, heartfelt moan when Keith’s fingers wrap around him.

The smouldering fire of Shiro’s arousal fans into a roaring inferno. He’s burning with the need to see his lovers come, burning with the need for them to touch him.

It doesn’t take them long. A few strokes and Ryan’s eyes roll back, painting Shiro with ropes of white. Keith empties in Ryan with a growl.

Shiro is a quivering mess of need beneath them. He arches his back, seeking something, anything, and sobs, frustrated. Tears stream from both eyes. He’s falling apart, dizzy with hunger, need, desperation.

“Easy, Shiro,” Ryan pants softly, fondness lacing through his voice. “We’ll take care of you. Keep your hands here.”

Shiro nods, frantically. Desperate to do anything they ask of him.

Ryan lets go of his wrists, sliding his hands over flesh and metal, over his pecs and the twitching muscles of his abdomen to his cock. It’s throbbing, an angry neglected red. Ryan shifts to his right, releasing Shiro’s legs. His thighs fall open, begging wordlessly for their touch. Keith obliges, moving up his left side, fingers tracing fire up his inner thigh. Shiro gives a long shuddering moan.

Keith pauses, and then traces up the side of Shiro’s cock with his tongue, cupping his balls in one hand. Shiro shouts and scrambles at the pillows behind him, raking them with his nails and blunt metal. Keith tongues at Shiro’s slit, tasting, before sliding all the way back down. Ryan joins him on the other side. They work in tandem, sliding tongues and swollen lips over Shiro’s length. Keith clicks the vibrator up a setting.

The intensity of his scream burns Shiro’s throat. His back bows off the bed and Ryan drops a heavy arm across his pelvis to keep him in place. Keith and Ryan run sloppy open mouths up and down in unison. It’s utterly devastating, riding the knife’s edge, he feels like he’s going to shatter. Keith breaks from the pattern and swirls his tongue around the swollen head. Ryan moves opposite, mouthing at Shiro’s tightly drawn balls as Keith sinks his mouth around Shiro’s cock.

Shiro nearly rips the sheet from the corner of the bed when he feels Keith’s hand grabbing his own and planting it firmly on his head. Choking out a sob of thanks, Shiro threads his fingers through those jet black strands and holds on for dear life. Ryan lifts his arm and allows Shiro to fuck into Keith’s open pliant mouth.

The pressure builds, inexorable, until his body explodes. Every muscle pulled taut, scream halted in his throat. He can’t see, can’t breathe. He surrenders to oblivion.

He comes to and the vibrator has already been removed. The mess of come on his chest has been wiped off and Keith is cuddled up into his side.

“You ok there, love? We lost ya for a second.” His eyes are alight with affection tinged with concern. Shiro breathes a laugh.

“I think you’re both trying to murder me.”

“Well, looks like we failed. Guess we’ll need to try again another day.” Keith tilts his jaw for a chaste kiss.

Ryan slips naked into the other side of the bed with a tired huff of laughter. He pulls Shiro towards him and weaves their legs together. Keith quickly spoons up behind Shiro, peppering kisses along Shiro’s shoulder until they all drift to sleep.

Shiro is too exhausted for nightmares.

***

When Shiro wakes, he turns his head to see Keith’s side empty. No doubt he’s already attending to the animals. In front of him, he can see Ryan still passed out cold and Shiro studies the striking lines of his face. The long black eyelashes fanning out over his smooth ebony skin. His plush, infinitely kissable lips. The strong line of his jaw and sharp cheekbones. He watches the soft morning light dance across skin as his chest moves slowly up and down.

Shiro feels his heart flutter. He draws in a small breath, careful not to wake Ryan. This… he wasn’t expecting this. He wasn’t supposed to start falling for their friend with benefits, his best friend. How is he going to tell Keith?

He agonizes over the thought for a few minutes, watching the light slowly drift across Ryan’s skin, reflecting off his piercings as the sun rises in the sky. His mind made up, he carefully extricates himself from Ryan’s arms and legs and moves quietly down the stairs.

Keith is puttering around their kitchen, a pair of Shiro’s shorts slung low on his hips, taking out ingredients for breakfast. Fresh eggs from the chicken coop are sitting on the counter. He turns to see Shiro in the doorway, naked as a jaybird, and raises an eyebrow. “Morning sugar, might wanna put some clothes on afore I throw you on that table and make _you_ my breakfast.”

Shiro laughs and moves into the room to envelope Keith in his arms and draws in a deep breath. He loves early mornings like this. There are so many thoughts bouncing around in his head as Keith returns his embrace. He opens his mouth.

“So I was thinkin’,” Keith starts. Shiro quickly snaps his mouth closed. “I know you and Ryan are super close and I’ve definitely gotten closer to him over the past coupla years, and especially the last few months.” Shiro lets out a snort of laughter.

Keith pulls away and traces Shiro’s jawline with his thumb, “I know he understands yer line of work better than I do. But…how do I say this?”

Shiro’s brow furrows deeply.

With a deep breath, Keith continues. “Well I guess I’m tryna say that I wonder what you would think about us bringing him into our relationship more. I think he complements us an’ I’m wondrin’ what you would think about… I guess asking him to date us? I guess I’m not sure how else to put it.” Keith looks up at Shiro, violet eyes wide with nervousness, biting his lip

Shiro feels like the air has been punched out of him. “Keith…” he trails off. Keith immediately looks away, swallowing hard. Shiro smiles and pulls Keith’s gaze back to his own. “Keith, I’ve been sitting here wondering how to bring up that exact same question to you.” Keith’s eyes bulge comically.

“What?! Seriously?”

Shiro barks a laugh and seals their lips together. “Yes,” he breathes against Keith’s mouth. “We can ask him, but I’m down if you’re down.”

Keith grabs Shiro’s head with both hands and kisses him deeply. They break apart panting. “You better go on upstairs and grab some shorts, or I WILL end up throwing you on this table, breakfast be damned.”

Another peal of laughter. Shiro grabs Keith ass, pulling their fronts together, and steals one more bone-melting kiss before letting go with a spank. “Fine, I’ll grab shorts.” He sticks his tongue out at Keith and grabs a clean pair from the laundry room, catching a glimpse of himself in the hallway mirror.

“I’m going to have to wear a ton of makeup or call out for a week, did you need to mark me like a damn vampire?” he scolds Keith when he comes back into the kitchen.

Keith has him check the eggs for chicks before shooing him away from the stove. “Don’t need you burnin’ this bacon, ya hear?”

Ryan comes down the stairs 30 minutes later to the scent of fresh bacon and helps Keith finish making the giant rounds of omelets before they all sit and devour it. After breakfast, Shiro changes into his “Pollinate Me” tank and his favorite pair of daisy dukes. Ryan pulls out his backpack and takes over their kitchen table with a plethora of textbooks and reams of notecards. It’s like every Sunday they’ve had for months. It feels right.

Shiro works out in his garden for an hour, trying to get his weeding done before the heat really sets in. The heat rises steadily as the sun climbs high in the October sky. He stands, wiping the sweat from his face with his arm. Time to get something to drink.

Climbing up the front porch stairs, he can hear Ryan and Keith yelling good natured insults at each other.

“You dick. No pushing!”

“I’m not pushing! You’re just being whiney.”

“Whiney?” Keith laughs, out of breath. “I’ll show you.”

Shiro opens the door and leans against the frame. Of course. Tony Horton is on the screen, and Ryan and Keith are in the middle of a plank, each determined to one up the other on who can do P90X the best. How can someone be best at a workout DVD? Shiro has no idea, but he does get the side benefit of watching both gorgeous men flexing shirtless on his living room floor. Wherever Tony Horton is, someone should give him a cookie.

“So what does the winner get?” He teases

“Nnngg – bragging rights,” grunts Ryan.

Shiro rolls his eyes and pushes off the door, walking around them to the kitchen. He rinses the dirt off his hands in the sink before opening the fridge to grab the jug of sun tea Keith brewed for them yesterday. Sweat drips down his neck as he chugs an entire glass before filling another one.

Nails click on the tile floor of the kitchen as Kosmo trots out from the living room and nudges Shiro in the calf. Shiro places his empty glass on the counter before kneeling to scrub both hands over Kosmo’s ears. “Hey there, beautiful. Wanna come outside and keep me company while I finish the weeding?”

Kosmo tilts her head, which Shiro assumes means yes, and she follows him out of the kitchen. His lovers continue throwing breathless insults at each other as he and Kosmo skirt around them to the front door.

There’s not much weeding left to do. Just need to finish the last section of the fence by their barn and he’s done. He’s standing to stretch a cramp in his lower back when he hears it.

He freezes. It can’t be. The rapid staccato blasts of semi-automatic gunfire stab through his skull. He takes a deep breath in through his nose. He can do this. He’s practiced. He’s talked about this during his sessions with Moira so many ti –

The piercing sounds of bullets rip through the air.

No…

He’s climbing, spiraling. Icy numbness skitters across his skin. Heart slamming against his ribs. Can’t feel his hands. He’s being sucked out of his own head. The garden feels artificial. The roses and daisies illusory. He vigorously shakes his hands. No, no no, NO. His breath stutters in his chest. Kosmo blinks out of existence with the smell of ozone. Thank god… The edges of the world blur…

Sharp, high pitched ringing. Smoke. Black, acrid, suffocating. He stumbles.

_it’s not real it’s not real it’s not real_

Distant screams. Help. Open, glassy eyes. Unseeing.

_it’s not real it’s not real it’s not REAL_

The tang of ozone.

Pain, stabbing, agonizing. His arm.

_it…….. it’s n… not………_

Shards of shattered bone. Pink mist. NO. Juarez…

Ankerson’s face. Chunks of brain and crushed skull.

Burning gasoline. Cooking flesh. Thick. Nauseating. He gags. Retches.

A damp nose against his palm.

Blood. Sticky, dripping. So cold. His ARM.

 

_Takashi._

 

“Corporal? Corporal Shirogane!”

Hands jostling.

“Oh fuck. Get a tourniquet!”

“I can’t! The Humvee is –”

“Well FIND SOMETHING. Cut a seatbelt, fuck, SOMETHING.”

 

_Takashi, can you hear me? Can I touch you?_

 

Explosions, bullets ricochet. Screams. Sharp tings of metal. He’s lightheaded. So much blood. Can’t breathe.

“Bravo five this is Victor two, request immediate JTAR.”

            “…Victor two this is Bravo five prepared to copy.”

 

_Takashi, I’m gonna touch yer hand._

 

“Line tree, alpha six, bravo –”

“AAAHHH”

“We can’t…. FUCK.”

Another earth-shaking explosion. Gentle, calloused skin. Shrapnel rips, scorches.

 

_Feel my chest. Breathe with me. Breathe in…. Hold…. Breathe Out._

 

Shiro’s tongue is leaden. He struggles to move it. The stench of gunpowder and iron.

Keith?

 

_Yes, I’m here. Breathe with me._

 

Breathe. He can’t. The rancid stink of death.

His throat burns.

 

_Here, let me… maybe if I sit behind him while you…_

 

Ryan?

 

_Yes, Takashi. We’re both here. I’m going to touch your back, ok?_

 

He’s surrounded. Staccato gunfire. Death. HIS ARM.

 

Everything snaps back. Terror crashes through the numbness. The screams are his own. Ryan cradles him, arm securely around his torso. Keith kneels in front of him holding Shiro’s shaking palm tight against his chest. His breathing steady. Counting. Four in –  hold – seven out. In unison with the solid chest at Shiro’s back. Modeling it.

Grass under his legs, not sand. Pinpricks of pain. Scratches surrounding the clasp of his prosthetic. Blood lining his nails.

Keith’s face is carefully neutral. Eyes an infinite violet calm.

“Breathe with Ryan. Four in, hold for four, seven out.”

Shiro struggles. His lungs expand erratically. He can’t.

“That was then. This is now. We are home. Yer at the farm. Not Kerberos.” Keith’s voice is soft, soothing. Ryan continues to count and breathe, count and breathe.

“We are here. We are real. That was a memory. It’s gonna be ok”

Shiro’s face is drenched. Sweat. Tears. Snot.

“It’s not yer fault. Breathe with us.”

Shiro reels himself back. Slowly. Desperate, sobbing breaths.

Ryan continues to murmur. “In, two, three, four. Hold. Out, two, three, four, five, six, seven.”

Shiro can feel himself matching the pattern. Hiccupping panicked breaths in. Shaking breaths out.

“There you go, Takashi. Yer safe. We got you.”

Kosmo noses at his knee and crawls under Keith’s arm to curl up in Shiro’s lap. Keith places Shiro’s hand on Kosmo’s soft fur. “You got this. Yer doin’ so good.”

“In, two, three, four. Hold.”

“I love you. We both love you.”

“Out, two, three, four, five, six, seven.”

“Almost there. Yer ok. Keep breathin’ with Ryan.”

“Hold….. Out, two, three, four, five, six, seven.”

Shiro slumps forward, exhausted. Hands run gently through his sweat-soaked hair. “Are you back with us?” Shiro manages a weak nod. “Ok, let’s get you rinsed off, ok? Do you wanna walk?”

Shiro can’t respond. “Alright sweet tea, I’m gonna have Kosmo get us to the bathroom. Is that ok?” One nod.

“Kosmo, bathroom.” Again, the pungent smell of ozone. Hands help him sit on the closed toilet seat. They work together to strip him of his clothes. He hears the tub faucet . Thundering water. The scent of lavender. Shiro grounds himself in the routine. He opens his eyes.

Ryan is crouching on the floor in front of him, stabilizing him while Keith moves around the bathroom. Kosmo is hovering near the door.

Kinkade notices his eyes are open and drops to a knee, cupping Shiro’s face in both hands. “You’re ok. We got you.” His voice is deep, reassuring. A single tear falls from Shiro’s lashes, joining the track marks already staining his cheeks. He’s so tired. He lets his heavy eyelids fall closed.

A warm wet washcloth gently wipes Shiro’s face clean. Shiro hears the creak of the faucet turning off and two pairs of strong arms carefully pull him to his feet. His knees nearly buckle. They hold him steady.

“You get in with him. I’m gonna go grab some other things.”

He feels Ryan move away and hears the rustle of clothes. Opening his eyes again, he sees Ryan stepping naked into the oversized tub Keith installed specifically for this purpose. For Shiro.

Ryan settles himself against the sloped back of the tub and reaches up. Keith helps Shiro over the edge of the tub and settles him leaning against Ryan’s chest. The warm water laps around his shoulders.

“I’ll be right back, sweetheart, I’m just gettin’ ya somethin’ to drink.” Keith turns and leaves through the bathroom door, Kosmo close on his heels.

Shiro focuses on the warmth of the water, the soft smell of lavender oil, Ryan’s gentle hands across his skin. He feels brittle, hollow, and cracked around the edges. They don’t talk. Ryan presses a cheek to the side of his head.

He’s dozing when he hears footsteps re-enter the bathroom, followed by the light clatter of nails from Kosmo. Rihanna starts playing. His favorite Spotify playlist. Oh Keith.

“Baby, I know yer tired but you need to get some fluid in ya. Can you do that for me?”

Shiro pries his lids open to Keith kneeling in front of the tub holding a bottle of Gatorade with a straw in it. It’s the blue kind, his favorite. Shiro manages a tired smile. Keith smiles back and leans over with the bottle, pressing the straw to Shiro’s lips. “Small sips.”

He finishes half of it, rinsing away the taste of bile. Ryan and Keith run their hands all over his body, lightly massaging muscles, washing away the stench of terror and bringing him back to himself. After an hour, the water is cold, but Shiro feels less fragile, more human. He’s able to support his own weight when Keith pulls him out of the tub, running a warm towel over his skin. Keith presses a soft kiss to his lips and dresses the deep scratches marring the flesh above his prosthetic.

The three men move to the bedroom, where Keith and Ryan tuck Shiro in between them, interweaving their thighs, and reassuring Shiro with words and the soft press of skin until he falls asleep.

***

Shiro awakens to the soft murmur of voices. His eyelids feel heavy. A sturdy chest rises and falls behind him and arms are lightly wrapped around his waist. It’s difficult, but he manages to open his eyelids. It’s dark. He looks directly into deep violet eyes.

“Keith,” he croaks.

“Hi baby, we’re here. We didn’t go anywhere.” Keith’s voice is soft and soothing. “Do you need anything to drink.”

Shiro struggles to swallow and nods.

“Ok.” Keith places a gentle kiss on his forehead before climbing out of bed. “Ryan’s got ya until I get back.”

“Thank you,” Shiro rasps.

He’s not sure, but it seems like he catches a glimpse of Keith’s calm exterior breaking slightly, showing the agonized worry beneath. Keith reaches to run his hand through Shiro’s hair, and then presses his hand to Ryan’s arm before leaving their bedroom.

Shiro closes his eyes again and focuses on Ryan’s breathing. He feels lips press a gentle kiss to the crown of his head and his heart fills. Both of these amazing men care about him so deeply, and he doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve it. He mentally adds that topic to his checklist to go over with Moira. He can already hear her voice chastising him, “Shiro, what do we call those self-defeating thoughts?” He huffs a small laugh through his nose.

“Wanna share the joke?” Ryan’s deep voice rumbles through his chest, vibrating through Shiro’s back.

“I was just thinking about something my therapist says.”

“Yeah? Do tell.”

“She always calls my self-defeating thoughts nasty gremlins.”

Ryan’s chest rumbles again with a chuckle. “Well, she’d be right about that. What gremlins are running around in your head right now?” he asks as Keith comes back into the bedroom holding a bottle of water.

Ryan unwinds his arms and allows Shiro to sit up.

Shiro takes the bottle from Keith and downs half of it. The cool liquid soothes the dry ache in his throat and he sits back against the headboard with a relieved sigh.

“That I don’t deserve men as wonderful as you.” He smiles ruefully.

Keith grabs his left hand and places a kiss on his engagement ring. “I plan to always fight those gremlins with you.”

Shiro smiles, more genuinely. “I know you will.” He takes a stabilizing breath. There was one more thing to address, might as well do it now. “Ryan. There was something Keith and I wanted to ask you.”

Ryan looks at them, an unidentifiable emotion flickering behind his amber eyes. He hums in response.

“You can think about it, but both Keith and I were thinking that we would really like to make this something more. Would you possibly consider…dating us? Both of us?”

Ryan looks stunned. “I…..” He looks away, then back, lost.

Shiro smiles. “We’re both kind of falling for you. I’ve never been very good at that no feelings thing.”

Ryan chuckles, “Well ain’t that the truth.” He pauses and takes a few breaths before continuing. “I don’t know. I just really want to make sure I think about it before I answer that.”

Shiro and Keith nod in understanding.

“Ok, well, let us know,” Keith chimes in. His expression is open and honest, affection pouring from every pore in that way only Keith seems to be able to do. “For now, let’s sleep. You got class early anyhow.”

Shiro drains the remainder of the water, hands the empty bottle to Keith, and scoots down until he’s lying flat. He rolls to his side, and reaches behind him to pull Ryan close again. Ryan hesitates for half of a second before wrapping his arms around Shiro once more. Shiro sighs with relief. Even if he does say no, just one more night of this. One more night of closeness with this man he loves. With both men that he loves.

Keith slips in bed facing Shiro and traces a thumb across Shiro’s lips. Shiro presses a kiss to the digit before allowing sleep to pull him back under.

***

Ryan is gone when Shiro wakes up. He suffers a brief moment of panic before Keith calms him, reassuring him that Ryan just needed to get to class and he wasn’t upset. Keith called in a late start for Lotor, and Shiro has never been more grateful to the Galran farmer for his understanding. Waking up to an empty bed after yesterday would not have been pretty.

Keith sets Shiro up with breakfast and presses his phone along with Moira’s business card into Shiro’s palm with a meaningful look before donning his cowboy hat and leaving out the front door. Shiro sighs and dials the VA, anticipating their long as fuck wait times.

After one and half hours, he speaks to Moira for a brief five minutes and schedules a full session into her packed schedule a month from then. Luckily she had a cancellation. She insists on checking in over the phone once a week due to the severity of his recent flashback and good-naturedly reminds Shiro to fight the gremlins. It’s not as productive as a full in-person session, but Shiro does feel a little lighter. It definitely helps that the anniversary has come and gone.

He calls out of work for the entire week, spending his days out in the sun, losing himself in the routine of his garden. By Thursday, Shiro has built a new rock and concrete wall for their front flower bed. Labeled sticks mark the places for daffodils, hyacinths, and snowdrops, all waiting to burst into bloom come spring, painting their yard with watercolor hues.

Ryan doesn’t text him. He doesn’t text Keith either. They agree to give him as much space as he needs to think things over, but Shiro is admittedly a little heartbroken about it.

Friday evening rolls in with a cool autumn breeze and orange and gold leaves gilding the nearby trees. Shiro excitedly gushes about pumpkin spice lattes coming back to Starbucks. Keith smiles, shakes his head and spoils Shiro with all the pumpkin spice goodies he can find; pumpkin spice candles, fall scented bath bombs, homemade pumpkin pie, anything to make his baby smile.

The sun is setting over the horizon, rays of deep gold shining in through their windows when Shiro hears it. The unmistakable crunch of gravel under tires. He flies out the front door, screen banging behind him. A silver Camry skids to a stop right as he reaches the porch stairs. The door bangs behind him once more. Keith is standing with his thumbs hooked in his belt loops, lips curving in that heart-stopping lopsided smile.

Ryan flings his car door open, slamming it behind him, and damn near runs to Shiro. He tangles Shiro’s shirt in his fists and crashes their mouths together. Shiro moans and hears Keith’s echo behind him. He grabs Ryan’s hips, relishing the slick slide of tongue and the faint taste of Redbull. Ryan releases him with desperate panting breaths and backs him towards the door, grabbing Keith by his shirt along the way. Keith pulls the door open and they stumble inside, a jumble of bodies.

“Yes. The answer’s yes,” Ryan says. He jerks Keith to him, hands squeezing his ass, slotting their mouths together. He speaks between frantic, wet kisses, “What are – the – boundaries?”

“Between  – the three of us – none.”

Ryan groans filthy and deep. He pulls away, resting his forehead against Keith’s, panting. “I can’t – stop thinking about both of you.” He shoots a dark look at Shiro. Shiro feels a shudder running down his spine. It’s predatory. He feels like he’s being hunted.

Keith fists both hands in Ryan’s dreads and pulls his head back, baring the corded tendons of his throat. Breath hisses between Ryan’s teeth as Keith attacks with teeth and tongue. Shiro watches the display of dominance and nearly falls to his knees in front of both of them. His cock throbs.

“Strip,” Keith whispers against Ryan’s pulse, “I want you to fuck him.” They both look to Shiro, whose mouth has dropped open, breathing heavily as he palms his erection.

“Mmmmgh, gladly,” Ryan nearly growls. One last kiss and Keith releases his grip on Ryan’s hair. Ryan yanks his shirt over his head, quickly toeing off his shoes and pulling sweats and boxer briefs down in one swift motion. He stalks toward Shiro.

Shiro hurriedly strips his own shirt off and drops it to the floor.

Ryan grabs Shiro and spins him around, wrapping a hand around the curve of his throat. Shiro whines, knees buckling slightly, as Ryan walks him to the couch and shoves him face first over the arm, ass in the air.  

He yanks Shiro’s shorts down to his ankles, and a resounding smack echoes around the living room. Shiro yelps. The skin on his ass tingles. Ryan lands a matching blow on his other cheek; pain and pleasure fizzle over his skin in the most delicious, intoxicating combination.

“What do we say if we feel uncomfortable?” Ryan asks, authority saturating his voice.

“Stop.” Keith’s voice sounds breathless. Shiro turns his head and Keith is watching them with wide eyes, the thinnest ring of violet visible around his blown-out pupils.

“Good. Grab the lube.”

Shiro can hear the smirk in Ryan’s voice. Oh, it’s going to be a good night. He squirms in anticipation and Ryan smacks his ass again. His breath hisses in between his teeth.

Keith pulls out the drawer of their TV console and retrieves a small tube they keep stashed in there “just in case.” He returns and pulls Ryan down for a kiss full of tongue and teeth, placing the tube in his hand. Shiro whines from his position bent over the arm of the couch.

Ryan hums against Keith’s lips. “Do you keep lube everywhere for our little slut?”

Keith turns his head to make burning eye contact with Shiro. “Yes.” His voice is just as dark as Ryan’s.

Shiro can’t take it anymore. “Please,” he begs breathily, “Please, fuck me _._ ” He sobs in relief when he hears the cap pop open and his head drops to the cushion the second he feels slick teasing fingers around his rim.  He moans, throatily, and tilts his ass up towards Ryan.

Ryan wastes no time going for Shiro’s prostate. Once he’s able to fit two fingers inside Shiro, he angles them, pressing down hard. Shiro lets out an embarrassingly high pitched stream of noises. If Ryan keeps finger fucking him like this, he won’t make it to the main event. He clenches his hands into fists and rides the waves of ungodly pleasure Ryan is pulling out of him.

The opposite end of the couch dips down. Shiro glances up to see Keith settling in, fully clothed, the hard line of his cock bulging in his jeans. He traces his fingers lightly across it, locking eyes with Shiro. Goosebumps spread over Shiro’s skin as he imagines what a picture he and Ryan must make, what fantasies are being fulfilled right now for Keith.Shiro tries to maintain the searing eye contact, but with the third finger Ryan presses into him, his head drops back to the couch with a fractured moan.

Four fingers and Ryan deems him ready. The slick head of his cock lines up with Shiro’s stretched hole. Shiro pants, struggling to keep his body still and not thrust his hips back. He knows without a doubt Ryan will drag it on even longer if he tries to take the reins. So he waits. Shaking. Trying so so hard to be patient.

Ryan nudges against his entrance, but doesn’t push forward. A shaky high –pitched whine spills from him. Keith groans deeply.

“Ryan, please. _Please_ fuck me,” Shiro begs.

“Mmmmm, you’re such a needy slut, but you sound so pretty when you beg.” He swivels his hips and the tip of his cock breaches Shiro’s rim. Shiro wails. The stretch burns, resonating through his entire body.

Ryan fucks in slowly, inch by inch. The sheer girth of him splits Shiro wide open, sending electric pulses of pain tinged pleasure zinging up his spine. Ryan pauses, pulling all the way out before plunging back in halfway. Shiro screams into the couch cushions.

“Think we can fit more?” Ryan’s voice is sinful hedonism.

“Yesss, please, _please!_ ”

“Fuuuuck…” breathes Keith.

Shiro glances up through his lashes to see Keith has unzipped his jeans, pulling them down just far enough to fist his cock. His eyes are hooded, smoldering as he watches Ryan take Shiro apart piece by piece. There’s something incredibly dirty about Keith being fully clothed while Shiro is naked with half of Ryan’s cock buried in his body. He gasps at the sudden jolt of arousal and reaches greedy hands toward Keith.

“Keith… Keith please,” he inhales sharply as Ryan thrusts in another searing inch, “Fuck my mouth, please.”

Keith devours him with dark eyes. “Wait.”

“No, please, please – ah – Keith.”

“Wait. First I want to watch you fit that giant cock inside you.”

Shiro clenches around Ryan. Holy shit, that is so fucking hot. Ryan grunts as Shiro tightens, vice-like. He drives his hips forward agonizingly slow, and Shiro pants, sweat breaking out over his skin. With a groan, Ryan’s hips meet the flesh of Shiro’s ass. He thrusts forward without pulling out, snugging impossibly deeper and Shiro chokes on air.

Keith stands from the couch and Shiro whimpers until he realizes that Keith is shedding his jeans and his flannel, finally joining them in being naked. Ryan flexes inside Shiro and he can’t breathe. He’s so full. It’s impossible to forget a cock like Ryan’s, but GOD does it knock the breath out of him every time.

He tries to go up on his tiptoes to get better leverage, but Ryan firmly digs hands into his hips, controlling the angle. He pulls out to the tip, before pushing back in so slowly that Shiro can feel every single inch as it drags inside him. He doesn’t even try to hold back his screams.

A hand gently tips his chin up and Keith kisses Shiro deeply, tongue curling around his until Shiro sees stars. Pausing for breath, he whispers, “You’re so beautiful,” against Shiro’s lips. Keith pulls Shiro up to his hands and braces one foot on the couch. “You ready, darlin’?” His cock bobs thick and purple in front of Shiro’s face. Shiro opens his mouth wide and begs with Keith’s favorite doe-eyed look.

Keith tangles his hands in Shiro’s hair and slides along his tongue. “Keep your eyes on me,” he breathes and Shiro moans his understanding around Keith’s length. Ryan slowly picks up his pace and the sounds of slapping skin and moans fills their living room. Keith and Ryan rock his body back and forth between them and Shiro melts, moaning nonstop around Keith’s dick.

“Oh God. You make – Ugh – the perfect fuck toy. This is what you wanted, right? To be – Ngh – spit-roasted like this?” Ryan grunts out.

Keith sinks deep into Shiro’s throat with a moan, past his non-existent gag reflex. Shiro’s body is buzzing with it. The flavor of Keith fills his mouth as Ryan strikes glancing blows against his prostate on every thrust. Shiro’s eyes roll back into his head, allowing himself to be taken apart until he no longer remembers what his name is. Keith pulls out of his throat every minute so he can breathe. Drool drips from his open jaw as tears are forced from his eyes. He grows lightheaded. All he can do is _feel_.

Keith suddenly pulls out of Shiro’s throat and frantically moves his hand over his cock until he comes in pearlescent glittering strands all over Shiro’s face. His come glows bioluminescent blue as he traces the tip over Shiro’s lips, smearing the remaining droplets like lip gloss.

Shiro coughs, throat raw. His tongue peeks out to lick the come off his lips. Keith’s eyes darken possessively when Shiro shows it to him on the flat of his tongue, before swallowing it down. Suddenly, Shiro is being heaved up by a palm spread against his chest. Off balance, he rests both hands on the arm of the sofa, keening as Ryan slams in deep forcing him on tiptoes.

He feels on display for Keith’s pleasure. Taut muscle. Aching, untouched cock. Tears and drool streaking his come-covered face. Ryan tilts his head to the side and licks Keith’s come off his cheek. Shiro moans and his cock jumps. He can only imagine what a picture they must make.

Keith moves closer, kneeling on the couch in front of Shiro. He wraps his hand around Shiro’s neglected length and matches Ryan’s pace. Ryan growls in approval and wraps his hand gently around Shiro’s throat once more, bowing his spine backward.

“You’re ours.”

Shiro snaps. The sparks shooting up his spine flare out, consuming every nerve in his body. His body locks, muscles spasming in release. He spurts white all over Keith, before collapsing back against Ryan, whimpering with overstimulation.

“You did so amazing, Shiro,” Ryan pants in his ear, “I’m almost there. Almost… fuck… FUCK.”

He can feel Ryan pulsing in him, filling him to capacity. His chest heaves, covered in sweat and droplets of Keith’s come. Keith stands and helps support Shiro’s weight when Ryan sags.

“Are you ok?” Keith’s arms wrap around his chest, sturdy and strong.

“Yeah,” Shiro responds with a tired smile. “I think we all need a shower… and then bed.”

Keith chuckles, “You need me to carry you?”

Shiro barks out a laugh. “No, just give me a minute. You might need to carry Ryan though.”

Keith looks behind Shiro and spots Ryan sitting on the bench next to their front door. He laughs. “C’mon man, yer the youngest outta all of us.”

“Let’s go upstairs. I cleaned a drawer in our dresser for you and everything.”

Ryan smiles and leans back against the wall. “This works. Us. It works pretty well, doesn’t it.”

Shiro and Keith’s smiles are blinding in response.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many people to thank for this. Thank you, as always, to the amazing [nautilicious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nautilicious/pseuds/nautilicious) for being my fantastic beta reader. Truly, you are amazing. Thank you to Hawkens for beta reading and for giving me a ton of encouragement. <3 Thank you to [ashinan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashinan/pseuds/ashinan) for letting me use "Fly-Ry" because it tickled me. :) You all are amazing.
> 
> Thank you, of course, to the men and women in uniform that I spoke to about PTSD and their own experiences with their symptoms and to ensure accuracy for all things military related. Thank you for speaking to me and thank you for your service. With all the love in my heart, I hope to god that you never read this.
> 
> The symptoms of the panic attack are pulled from my own experiences dealing with them. If you also have them, it sucks, I know. You are still strong. You got this.
> 
> Finally, if you are suffering from panic attacks or PTSD, you are not alone. Please know that even if you feel alone, there are people out there who think about you and wish you peace. There are resources out there that can help you, please reach out. Much love to you all.
> 
> https://www.ptsd.va.gov/public/where-to-get-help.asp  
> https://www.nami.org/Learn-More/Mental-Health-Conditions/Posttraumatic-Stress-Disorder/Support


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